


Desperate Measures

by decay



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Time Skip, Sex Magic, everyone's a wingman, inappropriate use of silence (the spell), made up crest magic science, sorry for everything caspar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decay/pseuds/decay
Summary: Affection bloomed warm in Sylvain’s chest and he leaned up to capture Felix’s mouth with his own again. He’d waited so long for this. He didn’t think he would ever tire of kissing Felix.(Post timeskip, Golden Deer route – no story spoilers, but spoilers for Sylvain and Felix’s A+ support and the names of some Hero Relics.)





	Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> I died when I got Sylvain and Felix's A+ support. I'd also probably be done with my second playthrough if I hadn't stopped to write this fic lol
> 
> Set sometimes during Golden Deer route because that's the only route I've finished, but also from what I know about the Blue Lions route I feel like post-time skip Claude is more likely to help than Dimitri. Just a guess. :')
> 
> Huge thanks to [azurrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurrys) and [habenaria_radiata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata) for beta reading my first smut fic ever. <3
> 
> Title from "Desperate Measures" by Marianas Trench, which came on the radio while I was writing and I couldn't get it out of my head.

Something changed after Sylvain’s stunt of saving Felix’s life. He’d played it cool and brushed the conversation off, words coming much more easily to him than Felix. _What are friends for?_ he’d asked, smiling normally when Felix looked him in the eye as he was leaving and thanked him, _blushing, _of all things.

As soon as the door was closed, though, Sylvain sat down on his bed and groaned into his hands. Felix had never seemed so desperately concerned for him. He had certainly never mentioned a desire for physical contact, even if he hadn’t acted on it. _I'll admit, seeing that smile on your face, I almost want to give you a hug. Almost. _

And Sylvain, without missing a beat, speaking before thinking, told him to say it again. _I liked it._

If either of them was a woman, Sylvain mused, their little exchange would almost be like … Like …

Oh, no.

* * *

“Sylvain,” someone said blandly behind Sylvain as he was mid-thrust with a training lance, “do you have a moment?” 

Sylvain paused and turned around, wiping his brow with his arm. “Sure, Linhardt. What’s going on?”

“Well, I was wondering,” Linhardt began, looking as sleepy and mild as ever, “how much do you know about the relationship between Crests and Relics?”

“Where did that come from?” Sylvain asked with a laugh, bringing himself out of his training stance and leaning against his lance in a way that would have anyone besides Linhardt probably scolding him for not treating the equipment properly. “Some. The basics, certainly, but not as much as you, I’m sure.”

Linhardt just nodded, unsurprised. “You know that you can only use a Hero Relic if your Crest is compatible. But how does the Relic know?”

Sylvain just blinked. “I’ve … never really given it much thought. I have no idea.”

“I do. A person’s Crest can be found in their blood, and yet they don’t need to bleed all over their Relic to use it. Eugh.” Linhardt paused, scrunching his nose at the thought of blood. “The theory is that there is some magic that acts as a conduit between the Crest in a person’s blood and the Relic. That means that, if I’m correct, the correlation …” Linhardt stopped again, and then let out an almost-sigh. “I’m getting bored explaining this. Can I borrow the Lance of Ruin?”

“Sure, but … why me?” Sylvain shifted his stance and twirled the training lance absently. “Not that I mind, but why not ask Claude to borrow Failnaught? Or ask Hilda for Freikugel?”

Linhardt sighed and shook his head. “Claude asks too many questions. He’s likely to drag me into something. And I don’t doubt that Hilda would let me borrow Freikugel, but getting a blood sample from her? I don’t even like thinking about blood, let alone trying to draw a sample from someone who needs … convincing.”

“Alright, that’s fair enough. So,” Sylvain started, arching an eyebrow, “I have to give you some blood?”

“No, you already have,” Linhardt said with a shake of his head.

“I did?”

“Well. You didn’t so much give it to me as you did leave it behind. You remember. When you got hurt protecting Felix the other day. I just kept some of it.”

“Huh. Not sure how I should feel about that, but sure. Give me a few minutes to clean up and I can get the Lance of Ruin for you.”

* * *

It was hard to sneak up on Felix. Sylvain knew this from experience. So when he wandered into the training grounds a couple of days later and Felix didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t say anything or look up from the blade he was cleaning, Sylvain couldn’t help it – on a wild impulse, he slid up behind Felix, threw a careless arm around his shoulders, and grinned. “Hey, Felix,” he said right in his best friend’s ear. 

Felix, to his credit, did _not_ immediately turn the blade on Sylvain and slice clean through him. He _did, _however, jump and bristle like a cat, quickly forcing himself away from Sylvain, sword pointed at him. His face was slightly flushed, easy for Sylvain to pick up on against Felix’s pale skin and dark hair. “What. Are. You. Doing,” he hissed, gritting his teeth, body tense and ready to fight.

“Hey, no need for the sword,” Sylvain said easily, “didn’t you say you wanted to hug? Or is my smile not doing it for you anymore?”

“You idiot,” Felix scolded sharply, easing out of his stance and picking up the cleaning rag that he had dropped when he spun around. “What if I thought you were an enemy? I recall saying something _else_ to you that day – _stop fooling around._”

“Oh, come on,” Sylvain started, still grinning. He picked up one of the training swords and twirled it. “I’m here, aren’t I? And you didn’t slice in me half, so you must not have hated it.”

“There’s still time,” Felix said with a scowl, putting the blade he just cleaned away and picking up a matching training sword. 

* * *

When they crossed swords, Felix focused on the sensations of metal on metal, shifting his weight and moving with the blade. He thrived in battle, and it always made him clear his mind and focus on the weight of the sword, the wind from his swings, his opponent’s reactions, the occasional grunt from Sylvain when he landed a heavy hit, the way his brow furrowed when they locked blades, the warmth of his breath on the sensitive shell of Felix’s ear when he had greeted him –

Felix faltered – he _faltered_ – and his moment of hesitance threw Sylvain off and all he saw was Sylvain’s expression flash to surprise as he struck a heavy blow and Felix’s blade wasn’t there to meet him. The momentum of the swing pushed all of Sylvain’s weight onto Felix and he stumbled before they both crashed to the ground.

Their heads knocked together and Felix groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he propped himself up on his elbows. When he blinked, he was nose-to-nose with Sylvain, who looked just as pained as he felt.

“Ow,” Sylvain groaned, rubbing his head. Felix took advantage of the brief moment before Sylvain opened his eyes to study his face. His features were sharper now than they had been five years ago. He liked Sylvain’s new hairstyle – not that he’d ever say anything about it, but it made him look more mature – and then Felix found himself staring into Sylvain’s warm brown eyes, unable to do anything as they shifted when he smiled. “Like what you see?”

“Shut up,” Felix replied automatically, glancing away and choosing to ignore the warmth building in his face. There was no venom in his voice. _Yes, always._ “This was entirely your fault.”

Sylvain shifted and opened his mouth to reply, but froze when his knee – which they both suddenly realized was between Felix’s legs – brushed against Felix’s crotch and he hissed at the contact, surprising him like a sudden jolt of electricity shooting up from his groin and settling, hot, in the pit of his stomach.

“My bad,” Sylvain said evenly after a brief pause. His expression didn’t change, he didn’t move, and Felix couldn’t find it in himself to meet Sylvain’s gaze again. If he looked, he knew he’d see an unspoken question that he didn’t have an answer for: _what now?_

It wasn’t that he hated the idea of _more_ – rather the opposite, in fact – and it wasn’t that he didn’t know _what_ to do, but … Felix inhaled and closed his eyes. “Not here. Not now.”

Sylvain just smiled at him and then shifted his leg back. Instead, he leaned in slightly and Felix opened his eyes when he felt Sylvain’s breath on his lips. They were so close he had no choice but to meet Sylvain’s gaze, but he found no traces of teasing in his expression. Only fondness. “Alright,” he whispered, just barely audible.

Felix just stared at Sylvain. It was that smile again – the softer one, the one that told him that Sylvain had completely dropped his guard. The one just for him. One that, before the other day, he hadn’t seen since they were children. Felix scoffed to himself. “I almost want to give you a hug again,” he said, voice quiet but not quite soft, “almost.”

Sylvain brightened, eyes crinkling with his widening smile. “How about this, instead?” he breathed, but Felix was the one who closed the distance.

* * *

“It’s done,” Linhardt said through a yawn as he walked up to Sylvain outside the dining hall and unceremoniously dropped a thin silver bracelet in one of his hands, pushing the Lance of Ruin into the other.

“Oh, thanks,” Sylvain said absently, shifting the twitching bits of the Lance of Ruin away from him and turning the bracelet over in his hand. It had only been a week. “Er, what is this? It’s pretty, but …”

“My research. You know. The Crests and Relics, I made a –“ Linhardt stopped to yawn again, and Sylvain could see the dark circles under his eyes now that he looked more closely. “- A conduit, remember? It should activate your Crest more often in battle. Wear it and tell me how it goes, will you? I’m going to … take a nap …”

* * *

Days later, there was a group of ill-advised raiders charging right towards Garreg Mach when most of Sylvain’s classmates were out.

Claude and Byleth had taken the majority of their classmates and their battalions to take care of some bandits that were camped too close to some nearby villages. It was a short, close by mission, so they had decided to only leave a small unit back at Garreg Mach – Sylvain, Ignatz, Mercedes, Caspar, and Felix.

As soon as the first scout sounded the alarm, Sylvain mounted his horse and rode out to meet the others at the gates. They were already prepared for combat, and were discussing the best plan of action. With their small numbers and the large area that they had to keep an eye on, there was no way they could fight clumped together.

“Oh, Sylvain!” Mercedes called to him as he approached, waving him over. “We were just talking about our battle formation.”

Ignatz nodded, pushing up his glasses. “I think it’s best if you and Felix fight closer to the front. I can cover you from further back, and Caspar can cover Mercedes.”

“Fine,” Felix said at the same time as Sylvain added, “sounds good.”

“Why can’t I fight in the front?” Caspar complained, adjusting the grip of his gauntlets.

Ignatz frowned. “We need you back here to deal with anyone who slips through and to cover Mercedes. I know you’re an excellent fighter, but Sylvain and Felix have weapons with longer reach if they need them.”

“Oh, fine.” Caspar relented, punching the air a couple times before nodding at his gauntlets, satisfied that they were on properly. “Let’s go, then. Where do you want to set up, Mercedes?”

Ignatz sighed and looked relieved as Mercedes and Caspar wandered off together, Mercedes giving them a wave and a smile as they left. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” he said sheepishly, smiling at Sylvain and Felix. “I’m going to meet up with my battalion. You two should get into position, too. They’ll be here soon." 

When both of them nodded, Ignatz hurried off and Felix started to move towards the gate.

“Felix, wait,” Sylvain called out, urging his horse forward before deftly slipping off beside Felix. He took off the silver bracelet that Linhardt gave him and held it out. “Wear this, would you?”

Felix just looked at it and frowned. “What is this? A bracelet? Why?”

“Linhardt said that it would make a Crest activate more often,” Sylvain explained, watching Felix’s expression change to skepticism. “Not that I doubt your skill, but seeing as we’re out there on our own and you don’t have a horse …”

“I’m not so weak that I need to rely on my Crest to win,” Felix said, scoffing and resting a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“I know that, but …” Sylvain scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “You don’t have a Relic either, and I have to ride ahead so you’ll … Anyway, would you just wear it for me?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “As far as your track record goes, _you _should wear it.”

Sylvain let the smile slip from his face. “I haven’t forgotten our promise. Just wear it for me. Please. You’re not wearing half the armor I am, anyway.”

Felix studied him seriously for a long moment before sighing and snatching the silver bracelet from Sylvain’s outstretched hand, slipping it on the wrist of his sword arm. “Fine. Happy?”

Sylvain grinned, easily swinging back up on his horse. He gave Felix a playful wink as he started to turn his horse around. “Very.”

* * *

Every time Felix swung his blade, he felt the familiar thrum of magic under his skin, infusing his blade with power. Like a piece of metal struck too many times, he was heating up – his very blood singing with power as he mowed down foe after foe. Whatever the bracelet was, it worked.

Felix only barely registered that he was sweating more than usual and breathing heavily, despite having the energy to go on. His blade didn’t slow – couldn’t afford to – and he just shrugged it off. It was like he was hyper aware of everything going on – the man swinging an axe to his left, an archer behind him notching an arrow, the tug and pull of his clothes as he moved, the wind on his face. He had to focus to think only about his sword to avoid being distracted by _everything else._

He only barely heard Ignatz shout to him from somewhere behind – “Felix! They’re retreating! I’m going with Sylvain to round up the remaining raiders!”

Felix only nodded and made a noncommittal grunt, but Ignatz must have seen him because a moment later he saw Sylvain gallop past with Ignatz sitting behind him, an arrow ready.

With one last swing, Felix cut deep into a raider’s chest plate, the blade slicing through the metal with the help of his Crest. The man let out a strangled, wet scream as he fell, blood cascading from the wound as Felix watched impassively. There was no one else left to challenge him, so he took a deep, shuddering breath and shivered, feeling feverish. His head felt hazy, now that he stopped to take stock of his body, and the heat was rolling in waves through his blood, coiling in his stomach and shifting whenever his clothes brushed against him or the wind blew too hard against his skin. His mind turned, unbidden, to that day at the training grounds, the weight of Sylvain over him, the heat then, in his cheeks, the breath against his lips, his pants were suddenly tight, he –

Felix groaned and shook his head, hissing as his collar dragged against his neck. Something was wrong. He just needed to sheathe his sword and leave. He just needed to rest.

* * *

Mercedes looked up from her position kneeling next to Caspar as he held out his arm for her. She was healing a shallow wound Caspar had gotten at the very end of the fight, when an archer had turned around at the last minute and aimed an arrow straight at her. Caspar, reckless as always, had jumped in front of Mercedes and pulled her to the side, managing to escape with only the wound on his arm, thank the Goddess. As she was surveying the aftermath of the fight, however, her eyes landed on Felix and she frowned. “Does Felix seem a little … off to you, Caspar?”

“Huh?” Caspar looked up and frowned as he watched Felix tug harshly at the collar of his shirt, breathing heavily. The swordsman’s hand seemed to be shaking slightly as he struggled to sheathe his blade. Caspar had seen Felix do that same movement a hundred times over and it was never anything less than fluid and effortless. “Now that you mention it … Is he sick? Did he get hurt? It doesn’t look like he’s bleeding, though.”

“I don’t know,” Mercedes murmured thoughtfully, worry beginning to seep into her voice. She stood up, then, and brushed off her skirts. “Felix?” She called out, beginning to make her way towards him. “Are you alright?”

Caspar followed suit a moment later, easily catching up to Mercedes. Felix didn’t seem to hear them, but when they got closer he glanced up and began to take a step – and swayed, stumbling. “Hey, woah!” Caspar jumped forward immediately, grabbing his arm to steady him.

As soon as he grasped Felix’s arm, Felix knocked his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he all but growled, voice rougher than Caspar had ever heard.

“Sheesh, just trying to help,” Caspar said, putting his hands up in surrender, but it didn’t seem like Felix was paying much attention. In fact, he looked pretty out of it. At his side, Mercedes looked deep in thought, frowning. “What should we do, Mercie?”

“Leave me alone,” Felix ground out, shaking the arm that Caspar had grabbed, “I’m fine.”

Caspar narrowed his eyes, taking in Felix’s weak stance, flushed face, and slight trembling. “Uh, no, you definitely aren’t. I’m no healer, but you look awful.”

“Hm …” Mercedes hummed thoughtfully, then stepped into Felix’s space and studied his face. He didn’t protest beyond glaring weakly at her, and she stepped back a moment later. “We need to get you to the infirmary. Manuela isn’t here, but I can do my best once you’re off the field. Can you make it there?”

Felix managed to scoff. “I said, I’m fine.”

“You definitely aren’t,” Caspar argued again, frowning. “Can you even walk? I can just carry you –“

“_Don’t._”

Mercedes put a hand on Caspar’s arm to interrupt him when she saw his brow furrow and expression darken. He stepped forward with an angry motion that told her he was about to snap at Felix. “It’s alright, Caspar. Thank you.” Her eyes softened as she stared at Felix. “If you won’t let us help you there, you’ll need to walk. I have an idea, but I can’t promise it will work.”

Felix was silent for a moment, his sword finally sliding into its scabbard with a clack.

“_Felix,_” Mercedes pressed again, reaching up as if she wanted to touch his arm to get his attention, but withdrew, thinking better of it.

“Fine,” Felix said eventually, clearing his throat and taking a deep, labored breath.

Mercedes nodded and focused her magic, casting Restore. The golden light gathered together into an orb and then burst into a wave that washed over the area. To her relief, Felix looked a little better – the flush in his face subsided slightly and he looked a little more aware. He glanced at her and nodded before turning and walking towards the monastery quickly.

Mercedes and Caspar exchanged a look before hurrying after him.

* * *

Mercedes ended up having to cast Restore a couple more times before they made it to the infirmary. It would help for a while, but then Felix’s breathing would become heavy again and he looked like he was in pain, grimacing with each step. But still, he adamantly refused physical help and had threatened to pull out his sword on Caspar when he reached out to steady Felix when he stumbled again. All Mercedes could do was try to keep the peace and get him to the infirmary as fast as she could.

She had an idea of what was going on, sure, but she hadn’t the faintest idea what could have caused it. This wasn’t the kind of thing Felix would do to himself. Or anything that _Sylvain_ would do to Felix, even if she _had_ noticed more than they suspected.

Once at the infirmary, she had Felix sit on one of the beds and hovered her hand above his forehead. “Oh, Felix, you’re burning up!” she exclaimed, able to feel the heat even without contact. “Please, take off your outerwear – it’s covered in blood – and then rest under the covers, will you? Caspar and I will wait just outside.”

When Felix didn’t respond right away, she sighed and used her last Restore spell to snap him out of it, and he just nodded at her and started to fumble with his armor.

“Uh, Felix –“ Caspar started, but Mercedes shook her head and gently nudged him towards the door.

Mercedes closed the door behind them quietly, and they both flinched when they heard something metal hit the ground roughly. Caspar crossed his arms and frowned. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Hm,” Mercedes hummed in thought, pressing a finger to her lips. “I’m not entirely sure what’s causing it, but it seems to be some sort of a magical effect. I don’t think his life is in danger, but I would like to take a closer look – and we should have the professor come by as soon as she returns.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Caspar said with a nod. They stood in silence for a few moments until they heard the rustling stop.

“Felix?” Mercedes called through the door, rapping the wood gently with her knuckles. “Are you finished?”

After a moment, there was a noncommittal noise and Mercedes sighed. “Caspar, would you check for me, please?”

Caspar nodded and opened the door, slipping in and calling out, “Felix? It’s Caspar. I’m coming in.” Soon after, he popped his head back out and nodded to Mercedes. “He’s in the bed. He doesn’t look good though.”

“Thank you, Caspar,” Mercedes said, slipping into the infirmary after him. Felix was in the bed and in his undershirt, as promised, with the covers drawn up to his chest messily. His outer clothes and equipment were in a similarly messy pile on the floor, shoved out of the way.

Felix himself looked awful, Caspar was right. His eyes were closed and face pinched in a pained expression, and Mercedes could see the red flush, sheen of sweat, and labored breathing even better against the stillness of the white infirmary bed. He had his legs propped up slightly, tenting the sheet and thin blanket, and his hands were gripping the blanket so hard his knuckles were turning white.

Odd – was that a bracelet? Felix was never one for jewelry. There was also something written on it … Frowning, Mercedes stepped forward to examine the thin silver bracelet more closely, carefully avoiding touching Felix and causing him discomfort. There was a Crest drawn faintly on it … was that House Gautier’s Crest?

The bracelet itself felt magical, and it wasn’t something that she had ever seen before. Surely Sylvain didn’t do this on purpose … Mercedes sighed and leaned closer to Felix, trying to get his attention. “Felix, I need you to take off your bracelet.”

Caspar made a noise of confusion behind her, but Felix seemed to hear her and just groaned, pulling the bracelet off and dropping it on the bed before throwing an arm over his eyes. Mercedes felt bad for him – surely he was embarrassed.

“Caspar,” Mercedes began, turning to her companion, “could you get Sylvain for me? And the professor, if you run into her – I think she should be returning soon.”

“I don’t mind, but why?” Caspar frowned, looking utterly confused.

“I think he may have an idea what happened to Felix,” was all Mercedes offered, carefully picking up the bracelet and setting it on the small table beside the bed, the inscribed Crest facing the wall.

* * *

Sylvain knew something was wrong when he couldn’t find Felix, Mercedes, _or_ Caspar when he got back from routing the remaining raiders with Ignatz.

When they ran into Caspar, Ignatz took his horse and told him to go – and Sylvain nearly sprinted to the infirmary, absently chewing on his bottom lip in worry. He only barely caught Caspar saying something about meeting the professor at the gate. _What happened?_

As soon as he burst in, Mercedes looked up at him with a smile from where she was sitting beside Felix. “What happened?” Sylvain asked, cutting her off before she had a chance to say anything. His eyes darted to Felix lying in the bed, looking feverish and awful. His arm was across his eyes, but Sylvain could still see the pained expression on his face and the way he was gritting his teeth and breathing heavily.

“I’m not quite sure,” Mercedes said calmly, holding up the silver bracelet, “but I believe it may have to do with this bracelet. Did you give it to him?”

Sylvain froze. “Yeah, I did. Linhardt made it. It was supposed to activate a Crest more frequently, and I gave it to Felix because I was worried about him fighting alone when he doesn’t wear much armor.”

“Ah, I see.” Mercedes looked relieved. 

“Why? Did I … Did it do something to him?”

“Well …” Mercedes looked at Felix thoughtfully. “Whatever magic it has seems to be too much for Felix to handle. I don’t want to try anything until Linhardt gets back, though.” She stood up and offered Sylvain the chair. “Stay with him a moment, will you? I’ll see if we can catch Linhardt.”

Wordlessly, Sylvain nodded and took her chair, staring at Felix. He had seen the swordsman sick before, but never _this_ ill. It was unnerving. And the thought that _he _had caused this by giving him the bracelet …

“Oh! Hm …”

Sylvain snapped out of his thoughts at Mercedes’ exclamation. “What is it, Mercedes?”

“Well … Felix looks a little better, actually.” She looked like she was thinking, and Sylvain didn’t see a difference. Felix was still looking feverish. He must’ve looked unconvinced, because Mercedes explained further with a giggle. “It looks like he’s breathing a little easier now. That’s good. Oh! Is that the professor? I’ll be right back!”

Sylvain watched Mercedes look out the window and then run out of the room.

The minutes ticked by unbearably slowly. If Felix was awake, he didn’t move at all or say anything, so Sylvain just say beside him quietly, propping his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. “Damn, what did I do … ?”

* * *

As soon as Mercedes returned with Linhardt, Byleth, and Claude in tow, Sylvain jumped up.

“Linhardt! You can fix this, right?”

Linhardt walked over to the nightstand and picked up the bracelet, frowning and turning it over in his hand. “Why did you give this to Felix? I told you to use it.”

Sylvain gaped at him. “You didn’t say that _only _I could use it!”

“I thought that was obvious.” Linhardt shook his head, and Sylvain felt guilt settle into the pit of his stomach. “I created the bracelet from research based on _your _blood and the Lance of Ruin.”

“Alright, alright, mistakes have been made,” Claude interrupted easily, stopping Sylvain before he could protest. “What now? What do we do to get Felix back on his feet again?”

“Well,” Linhardt began slowly, thinking. “The bracelet was intended to create a stronger conduit between Sylvain’s Crest and the Lance of Ruin. Without a Relic, I would assume that all of that magic just got stuck with nowhere to go.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Claude started, a spark of mischief in his eyes, “Felix needs an outlet.” From his side, Byleth turned slightly and gave him a _look _out of the corner of her eye.

“I … well, you’re not wrong,” Linhardt said, looking deep in thought. “Yes, that could work. If I just make an open conduit … It could … Fascinating. I have an idea. I’ll adjust the bracelet and it should reverse the effects.”

“How long will that take?” Byleth interjected, frowning slightly at Felix lying in the bed, flushed and still looking like he was in pain.

“Not too long, if I … oh, but … No, no, I know what to do. I’ll be back.” Without another word, Linhardt turned and left the infirmary, leaving the room in an uneasy silence.

Claude spoke up first. “So …” he started, drawing out the word, “not that I don’t trust Linhardt, but Felix looks like he’s about at the end of his rope. I have a backup plan, though.” 

Byleth glanced at Claude. “Am I going to like whatever idea you have?”

“Don’t worry, Teach. If I’m right, we’ll have Felix all fixed up before Linhardt is done and no harmful side effects. Besides, I’m always happy to help my friends out.” He glanced at Sylvain, who just felt a wave of relief at the prospect of fixing … this, whatever it was.

“… Alright,” Byleth acquiesced with almost a sigh. She glanced to Sylvain and Felix. “Help him get better, but not at your own expense. Understand, Sylvain?”

“What are you talking about?” Sylvain asked, but was only met with a blank stare from his teacher. “Alright, Professor. I understand.”

“Good. I’ll tell Mercedes the infirmary is off limits for the night. Do what you need to, Claude.”

Claude gave Byleth a two-finger salute and a wink. “Will do. Thanks, Teach.”

* * *

Claude came back a little while later with two packed dinners and a bundle of something in a bag. “Thought you might be hungry,” he said as he pushed the door open and closed it again with his foot. He juggled the meals and slid them onto a table, then hefted the bag and held it out to Sylvain. “Oh, and I brought you some things. I was going to use these in a scheme, but I figured they’d be better served with you.”

Sylvain frowned when he took the bundle from Claude, opening it up and pulling out a rod of some sort. “What is this?”

Claude gave him a wink and a smile. “It’s called a Silence rod. It lets you use Silence even if you don’t know the spell yourself. I got them from a merchant from a country far away but haven’t had a chance to use them so they’re all at full charge.” Claude paused and glanced around the infirmary thoughtfully. “If I were you, I’d set one in each corner of the room. Just make sure you bring them back to me when you’re done, even if they’re out of charges. I’m not exactly supposed to have these.”

“Thanks … I think?” Sylvain looked confused, but took the rods out of the bag anyway. 

“Sure. Like I said, happy to help my friends out.” Claude stretched and rested his arms behind his head before blinking, a thought coming to mind. “Oh, right. I think we rearranged some of the supplies in here, but you should find what you need in the second drawer of the small dresser.” 

Sylvain looked just as confused, and Claude had to hold back a laugh. It was interesting to see flirty Sylvain thrown so far off his game. “See you, then. Make sure to take care of Felix.”

Sylvain frowned slightly, looking up from sorting through the things that Claude had brought him. “That’s the plan,” he said, though it came out more like a question.

Claude threw him another teasing wink as he paused by the door. “Well, good. Remember what Linhardt said – _outlet._ Anyway, have a good night.”

Claude watched as Sylvain’s expression changed when he got the innuendo. Finally. He must have been really worried about Felix for it to go over his head so many times. “I … Right …” Sylvain trailed off, eyes flicking from Claude to Felix to the Silence rods then back to Felix and back to Claude. Claude just gave him a smile and a wave as he closed the infirmary door behind him.

* * *

Sylvain followed Claude’s advice with the Silence rods, deep in thought as he placed them in each corner of the room, only pausing to take his armor off. This _was_ his fault, and he would be lying if he said that Felix didn’t occupy his thoughts most of the time. He would be lying if he said that he _didn’t _want to sleep with Felix – hell, he’d wanted to that day at the training grounds and many times before then.

The small dresser that Claude had mentioned was right next to Felix, and Sylvain was fairly sure what he was going to find when he looked inside – and there it was, a vial of oil. He took it out and set it on the top of the dresser and sighed. He was torn – the _right_ thing to do would be … Well. Would it be better to wait for Linhardt, even if it meant Felix had to suffer through _this_ longer? Or would it be better to … just …

At his side, Felix groaned and shifted, lowering his arm and looking up at Sylvain with fever-bright eyes. Oil forgotten immediately, Sylvain hurriedly leaned over Felix to search his face for any answer it might be willing to give. Felix’s eyes were locked on Sylvain’s the entire time. Unusual. Sylvain frowned. “Felix, are y – _mph!”_

Even in this state, Felix’s strength and reflexes were there. His hand darted out and grabbed Sylvain by the front of his shirt, pulling him down into a heated kiss. Sylvain started, then melted into the hot, open mouthed kiss. Felix was pressing into him like he was a lifeline, and he wasn’t sure which one of them groaned. With great difficulty, he drew back. “I – wait, Felix, you’re –“

“I know,” Felix grunted, his voice low and rough between his heavy breathing, the sound shooting straight to Sylvain’s groin. “I heard it all, you half-wit. How the hell did it take you so long to figure out what Claude was telling you?”

“I was _worried,_ you ass!” Sylvain protested weakly, letting Felix pull him into another kiss. The man was absolutely burning up – Sylvain could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was about to say as much when Felix bit down – gently – on his bottom lip, making his breath hitch. The gentle gesture was surprising and made Sylvain weak in the knees, pitching him forward until he caught himself with one hand on the bed and one on Felix’s shoulder. As soon as he did so, Felix inhaled sharply and let out a groan that pitched up to an almost-whine.

In response, Felix’s hands began to roam downwards, pressing against Sylvain’s sides and settling at his waist, tugging at his shirt until it came untucked. When he felt a hand tug impatiently at the waistband of his pants, Sylvain pressed on Felix’s chest once, twice, and then on the third press Felix finally relented and pulled back, looking annoyed. “_What?_”

“I just – at the training grounds, you said ‘not here’ and ‘not now,’ are you sure you’re – no, I mean, if we have to – but I don’t –“ 

“You’re a _dumbass_,” Felix growled, suddenly flipping them over so that he was pinning Sylvain to the bed and hovering over him. Out of the covers, Sylvain’s eyes darted down and he could see Felix’s erection very clearly through his underclothes. The look of intense concentration coupled with annoyance on Felix’s face made him refocus. This was important. “I said that because I didn’t want to fuck on the floor of the goddamn _training grounds _where anyone could walk in. If we’d had a chance, I would have fucked you any day in the past five years. At _least._” 

“I – _what_?” Sylvain gaped up at Felix like he’d grown a second head. He sighed and deflated a moment later, laughing quietly and shaking his head fondly. “You suck at communication.”

“And you suck at this whole _more fucking less talking thing_.” There was no bite in Felix’s words, but there _was_ a hint of something that was almost a whine again.

Sylvain let out a breathless laugh, watching as Felix’s expression softened before reaching up to press one hand to Felix’s feverish cheek and relishing in the way he groaned and leaned into it, closing his eyes. “I don’t know,” Sylvain teased, faltering when Felix peered at him from under his eyelashes. That look – the almost coy way Felix’s eyes were half lidded, the red flush bright on his pale skin, the shimmer of sweat from the battle and heat both, the way his chest rose and fell from his labored breathing – Sylvain had never seen Felix look so vulnerable and almost delicate. He swallowed harshly and his dick twitched in his pants. “You seem to be keeping it together well enough on your own if you can insult me.”

Felix just scoffed before covering Sylvain’s hand on his cheek with his own and leaning in, so close that their lips brushed. “I can use _some _magic, you know,” he said, and then smirked as he slotted a knee between Sylvain’s legs and brushed up against his growing erection, eliciting a groan from Sylvain. _The bastard, that was payback wasn’t it –_ “But you’re driving me crazy,” Felix’s smirk faded back into that look of intense concentration and he growled against Sylvain’s mouth. “_Just touch me._”

“Well,” Sylvain breathed, “since you asked so _nicely._” Without much trouble, Sylvain reversed their positions again, taking advantage of his broader frame and, well, stronger build. But what he had in strength, he knew Felix had in flexibility … and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been fantasizing about testing it for _years_. “For the record,” Sylvain murmured against Felix’s lips, pausing between words to press kiss after kiss against them while his hands slid lower, touches feather-light, “me too. I’ve wanted to do this for forever, Felix.”

Underneath him, Felix tossed his head to the side and gripped the pillow tightly, pushing it into his face to bite back a moan as Sylvain _finally_ reached the hem of his shirt and slid his hand beneath, smoothing it over heated skin. “Oh, come on,” Sylvain said with a grin, reaching up with his free hand to nudge Felix’s cheek and make him look forward again. “You want me to touch you – I want to hear you. No one else will. You heard Claude, right?” 

“Assho – _ngh!” _Sylvain relished in the way Felix’s head tipped back and his chest rose off the bed in an arch when he rolled one of Felix’s nipples between his fingers. He could see the rapid rise and fall of Felix’s chest as he fought to catch his breath and tugged the hem of Felix’s shirt up, leaning down to kiss him again. Felix responded by kissing back hungrily, almost like he was a starved man and Sylvain was his salvation, and Sylvain pressed closer like he felt the same. He did.

They broke apart only long enough for Sylvain to tug Felix’s shirt off, his own following suit a moment later along with his boots, and then they pressed together again. With their chests bare, when Sylvain pulled Felix flush against him he let out a loud moan against Sylvain’s mouth.

“That’s better,” Sylvain said, grinning and pulling back. “What are you feeling?” He began to kiss his way along Felix’s jawline and paused at his neck. “Tell me.” Affection bloomed warm in Sylvain’s chest and he leaned up to capture Felix’s mouth with his own again. He’d waited so long for this. He didn’t think he would ever tire of kissing Felix.

“Wh – I – _nng_, _Sylvain!_” Despite asking a question, Sylvain began to kiss down the column of Felix’s throat, pausing to suck harshly at a sensitive spot. He groaned at the sound of his name, called in a way he had only _dreamed_ about previously. He had been hard before, but now it was almost _painful_.

“_Tell me_,” Sylvain insisted again, whispering against Felix’s collarbone before glancing up at him. The look of raw arousal on Felix’s face made him freeze and stare before groaning again – flushed skin, the way his expression was so open and vulnerable, the way his eyes were still bright and sharp, watching Sylvain’s every move, the way his messy hair framed his face. “_Fuck,_ Felix,” Sylvain said into his collarbone, dragging his teeth along Felix’s skin lightly. The _whine_ that it drew from him made Sylvain’s stomach flip and only stoked the flames of his own arousal.

Felix squirmed beneath Sylvain as he continued to kiss, nip, and tease his way down Felix’s chest. “I – it’s just – _ah_ – hot. I can feel ev – _ngh_ – everything.” 

Sylvain hummed encouragingly, shifting and nudging Felix’s legs apart with his knee until there was enough room for him to settle between them. He paused around Felix’s stomach, slipping his hands just under the waistband of his underclothes, smoothing his thumbs over Felix’s hipbones. Sylvain looked back up to Felix’s face, searching for any indication of discomfort or uncertainty. He found nothing but blown pupils and open-mouthed panting. _Desire._ He grinned. “Good. And?”

“A-and – _fuck_ –“ Felix groaned as Sylvain kissed lower, _almost_ where he knew Felix wanted him. He had to press down on Felix’s hips slightly to keep them from bucking up into his face. “It’s almost … too much –“ Sylvain paused, then, hovering just above Felix’s still clothed erection, and looked up again. Felix growled and slid his hand into Sylvain’s messy red hair, not pushing or pulling, just gripping. “_But not enough._”

Sylvain’s grin turned into almost a smirk as he locked eyes with Felix and slowly leaned down to press a light kiss to Felix’s erection. Felix moaned and fell back again, hand tightening in Sylvain’s hair. Sitting up, Sylvain gingerly removed Felix’s hand from his hair and laced their fingers together, palming Felix with his other hand. He relished in the full-body shiver and broken, stuttering moan that he drew from the other man.

Sylvain could already feel Felix’s underclothes growing wet around the tip of his cock from pre-cum, and he leaned down to capture Felix’s mouth in another heated kiss, tongue easily sliding into his mouth as he swallowed another one of his moans. Not moments later, Felix shoved Sylvain’s shoulder harshly and arched up to yank his underclothes down to his knees, letting his flushed erection spring free. He tugged on the waistband of Sylvain’s pants. “_Off,_” he rasped against Sylvain’s mouth.

Sylvain hurried to comply, all the while unable to tear his eyes away from Felix, watching the way he gripped his own erection and moaned, more pre-cum beading on the tip. After a moment, Sylvain settled back down between Felix’s legs and batted his hand away, lacing their fingers again and pressing Felix’s hands into the pillow. He leaned forward and ground down, rubbing their cocks together. He moaned as Felix made a choked, whining noise and arched up off the bed, pressing further into Sylvain and increasing the friction between them.

Sylvain let go of one of Felix’s hands and watched as Felix glanced down, curious, before gripping the sheets in anticipation when he saw Sylvain’s hand wander down to their cocks. Sylvain meant to give Felix a teasing grin, but instead cussed as he squeezed their dicks together, pumping once. His head spun, but when he looked back at Felix, his cock twitched at the expression on Felix’s face – he looked _wrecked_, trembling slightly, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood, gripping Sylvain’s hand and the sheet so hard his knuckles were starting to turn white.

Sylvain felt Felix twitch and start under him when he swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over the both of them.

“_More,_” Felix groaned, pulling back slightly to catch Sylvain’s attention, “I – I think I’m –” 

“Yeah?” Sylvain whispered, breathing ragged and leaning forward to press a light kiss against Felix’s cheek before settling next to his ear. “Already? I’ve barely touched you.”

Felix shivered harshly when Sylvain spoke directly into his ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. Sylvain could tell that he was trying to speak, but every time he refocused and opened his mouth Sylvain pumped his hand around their dicks again, squeezing a little here, twisting a little there, drawing out moan after moan from Felix. He squirmed under Sylvain, arching and bucking into Sylvain’s hand, chasing the pleasure.

“Are you close?” Sylvain blew onto Felix’s ear again, feeling Felix’s cock twitch, hard, against his hand. 

“I – _ah! – _I – _yeah_, fuck –”

Sylvain groaned and focused, rocking into Felix and pumping his hand faster, dropping his head to press his nose into Felix’s neck, feeling the bed shift back and forth every time they moved to meet each other. Sylvain twisted his hand, pulling lightly at their dicks and squeezing on the next pump, biting into Felix’s neck as he did so.

“_Fuck – Sylvain –“_ Felix bucked his hips up again, and then shuddered, arching off the bed, a borderline sob escaping him as he came.

Sylvain drew back, breathing harshly as he watched Felix tremble and come down from his orgasm. He continued to pump his hand slowly, working Felix through it and feeding his own pleasure at a slow burn. Felix’s blissed out face was something he had imagined so many times, but the real thing was like nothing he could come up with on his own. He groaned as he felt Felix’s cock twitch as the last of his cum spilled over Sylvain’s hand, letting go of Felix’s dick and holding his own, rubbing slowly as he watched Felix catch his breath and come back down.

Just as he was about to finish himself, Sylvain felt Felix squeeze their still intertwined hands and weakly bat at the hand on his cock. “W … wait,” Felix managed, barely able to speak through his labored breathing, “it’s still … going …”

Sylvain’s eyes widened and he looked back down at Felix’s erection, still standing strong. “Oh,” he said dumbly, then grinned at Felix. He slowed his hand, moving it just enough to keep the low fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He pressed forward again, feeling the mess Felix had made when they were flush against each other. “Another round, then?”

Felix shook his head, and Sylvain looked at him curiously, but waited while he swallowed and worked his mouth. “No,” he said, and Sylvain watched as the warm flush in his face rose to his ears. _That_ was a blush. He couldn’t hold back his grin. “I want … I want you _inside me._” 

Sylvain groaned as Felix’s words shot straight to his cock and it twitched, threatening to spill right there. He had to stop and force himself back in control because, _damn_, how _long_ had he tossed in bed thinking he would _never_ hear those words? “I – ugh, fuck – There’s nothing I want _more_,” Sylvain managed, “but you –” 

“You think,” Felix started, interrupting him but having to pause to catch his breath enough to speak, glaring weakly at Sylvain, “that I _haven’t_ fingered myself thinking of you?”

“I … well, okay.” Sylvain couldn’t keep the grin off his face when he felt a burst of pride in his chest. The thought of Felix alone, muffling his noises in his pillow, fingers in his ass, thinking of Sylvain – “That settles that, then,” he managed, swallowing hard and feeling his voice drop lower.

Though he loathed to separate, Sylvain let go of Felix’s hand and his own cock and sat back, reaching over to grab that vial of oil before gripping the back of Felix’s thighs, delighted to see how easily the swordsman could pull his legs up, bending his body nearly in half. As he opened the vial, he leaned down to press a kiss against Felix’s cock, hearing him start and groan. _Another time._

Sylvain slathered his fingers in the oil and set the vial aside, gripping the back of Felix’s thigh with one hand and _finally_ touching his hole, spreading the oil in preparation. Felix sucked in a shuddering breath and a tiny, high pitched noise escaped him.

Sylvain locked eyes with him, watching Felix’s expression as he sank a finger in, the way his head tossed back and his entire body arched off the bed, trying to rock down to meet Sylvain’s hand, a stream of _“oh fuck – oh fuck, Sylvain –_” coming from him. Sylvain groaned and took a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut to keep himself from coming.

As he moved his finger around, swirling it inside Felix and hearing his pitch change when he twisted or crooked his finger, Sylvain’s brain short circuited when he realized that Felix was better prepared than he thought and he pressed a second finger against Felix’s hole, watching as it went in easily. He could already almost fit in a third without much preparation.

Sylvain must have paused, because Felix laughed weakly at him and managed to look smug despite the way he was shuddering and clenching around Sylvain’s fingers. “You – hah – you thought I was exaggerating?”

“I’m flattered,” Sylvain managed hoarsely, letting go of Felix’s thigh to squeeze his own dick – _fuck_ he was going to come right there if he wasn’t careful. Pressing his fingers in deeper, Sylvain felt Felix rock in time with him, before he bent his fingers and pressed, feeling around for –

Felix _keened_, entire body tensing and shuddering before thrashing, hands gripping the sheet under him so tightly Sylvain heard something rip, head thrown back. Sylvain sat up to get a better view of Felix as he shattered with every crook and press of Sylvain’s fingers against his prostate – the mess of his cum across his stomach already, his hair that had fallen out of his ponytail when he thrashed so suddenly framing his face with dark strands that stuck to his skin with sweat.

Sylvain pulled his fingers out a moment later for more oil, swallowing harshly when he saw Felix clench around nothing, and all Felix managed was a weak whine. “Hurry _up,_” Felix complained, and that was as close to a pleading tone as Sylvain had ever heard from him. He felt his cock twitch and _by the Goddess this man was testing him._

But still, Sylvain took the time to tease the edge of Felix’s hole, squeezing his ass with his other hand, watching Felix thrash again. “Oh – fuck, _fuck_, that’s –” Felix cut himself off with a choked sob when Sylvain eased three fingers back in, scissoring them and pressing, occasionally crooking them to press against his prostate again.

Sylvain could watch Felix come undone under him _forever_. He didn’t think he had ever seen a better sight, and his eyes drank it in hungrily. After another particularly rough thrust that had Felix’s hips roll down to meet his hand faltering, Felix moaned and weakly batted at Sylvain. “You – _ngh_ … _Enough,_ Sylvain – _fuck me already._”

Sylvain looked down and there was a truly impressive amount of pre-cum gathered on the tip of Felix’s cock, and he sucked in a breath. “I – _ugh _– thought you’d never ask.” He groaned, pulling his fingers out of Felix and rubbing the remaining oil on his cock, watching Felix take deep, shuddering breaths as his hole continued to clench around nothing.

As Sylvain lined himself up, he draped himself over Felix and pressed their foreheads together, kissing him deeply as he eased himself in and they both moaned into the kiss. _Fuck,_ Felix was _tight_ – the heat that enveloped his dick was euphoric.

For a moment, they were both still, adjusting, just breathing together. Sylvain grasped one of Felix’s hands with his own, intertwining their fingers again. “I’m going to move.”

Felix just made a noise and nodded, and Sylvain slowly drew back before thrusting forward, hearing Felix let out a broken sob and roll his hips to meet Sylvain. He started slow, clenching his jaw in concentration as he watched Felix’s face and felt his heat clench around his cock.

The bed was rocking with their combined movements, creaking in time with the sound of skin against skin and the obscene, wet noises coming from where their bodies joined.

“_Sylvain –_” was all Felix managed, a choked, desperate sound that had Sylvain moaning and burying his head in the crook between Felix’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, Felix,” Sylvain rambled, shifting his hips to get a deeper angle and loving the whine it ripped form Felix. He couldn’t keep this pace anymore – he sped up, beginning to thrust faster and changing the angle to draw more noises out of Felix. “Fuck,” he moaned into Felix’s neck, biting that same spot again gently, “fuck, you feel so good.”

“Sylvain,” Felix whimpered, voice fragile and broken. “I’m – I –”

Sylvain grabbed Felix’s hand that was drifting towards his cock, bringing it up over Felix’s head and pinning it there, kissing him messily, hot and open-mouthed. Sylvain gently bit Felix’s lip, then his ear, breathing in a voice as low as it would let him, “_come for me, Felix.”_

With a strangled cry, Felix obliged, body clenching and tensing around and under Sylvain, breath stuttering, cum spurting up between their bodies and making an even bigger mess of their chests. Felix clenched so roughly around Sylvain’s cock that he thought he might burst then, but he kept thrusting shallowly, helping Felix ride it out before allowing himself one last deep thrust – drawing out a desperate sob from Felix before he pulled out and spilled his own cum over the both of them with an equally strangled moan.

Sylvain dropped, boneless, beside Felix and fought to catch his breath. He watched Felix’s face as he came down again, the flush beginning to fade, and reached up to run his fingers gently through Felix’s hair, brushing it away from his face.

At Sylvain’s touch, Felix opened his eyes and turned his head to face him, the softest smile Sylvain had ever seen on his face as they basked in the afterglow. Felix didn’t say anything, but he leaned forward slowly, nudging Sylvain with his nose until he tilted his face and Felix could press a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Better?” Sylvain asked a few moments later when they were both breathing relatively normally.

“Yeah,” Felix said in a huff, warm breath tickling Sylvain’s face. “It stopped.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Sylvain couldn’t stop the twinge of guilt settling into his stomach again, and it must have showed because Felix brought a hand up to cup his cheek. 

“Hey.” Felix’s voice was sharp, but not angry. Sylvain glanced up and met his eyes – the look on his face was serious, but open. “It’s not your fault. Did it _look_ like I disliked it?”

“Well, no,” Sylvain conceded with a little laugh. “But still, I –”

Felix growled. “Shut _up._ You didn’t take advantage of me. You didn’t cause me any harm. Did I ever want to have a hard-on around Mercedes and Caspar? No. But I _did_ want _this._” Felix looked him dead in the eyes, and the intensity of his gaze making Sylvain’s heart skip a beat. “I want _you._ I always have.” 

Sylvain let out a laugh, rushed and breathless, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “Message received,” he murmured, smiling so widely it almost hurt. He leaned in and kissed Felix again, soft and loving. “Together until we die, right?”

Felix scoffed against his lips, but the way he kissed back told Sylvain everything he needed to know. “Obviously.” 

* * *

“Sylvain? Felix?”

Sylvain woke up to someone knocking on the door gently, the light streaming in from the window telling him that it was morning. He groaned and shifted, reluctantly lifting his head from Felix’s shoulder and gingerly slipping out from under his arm. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Felix’s forehead when the swordsman stirred. He must have been exhausted to be so slow to wake. “I’ll get it,” Sylvain said softly, sitting up, “you can go back to sleep.”

Felix just grumbled.

“Coming!” Sylvain called out, just as the person knocked again.

“Are you awake?”

That was definitely Mercedes, and it didn’t sound like she heard him. Oh – the Silence rods! Sylvain threw his clothes on, grabbing them from where he’d tossed them last night, and cracked the door open. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

Mercedes just smiled at him. “Oh, don’t worry! Is Felix feeling better?”

Sylvain paused for a moment too long, forcing his face into his usual smile and pushing down the blush that threatened to rise into his cheeks. “Yeah, much.”

“That’s wonderful! I’m so glad to hear it.” Mercedes looked genuinely happy, and Sylvain was afraid she’d ask to come in. Instead, she just picked up a basket and held it out to Sylvain with her ever-innocent smile. “As much as I wish I could congratulate you and call you both down to breakfast, would you mind tidying the room first, please?”

Sylvain nearly choked and he felt his ears burn. “I – well, we …” he floundered for a moment, and Mercedes only giggled softly into her hand. He finally settled on a simple “thanks.”

“Of course.” Mercedes looked completely unfazed, and somehow that made it worse. “I will see both of you later, then.”

“Y-yeah.” Sylvain managed a weak smile and a half wave.

And the basket, of course, contained cleaning supplies and clean, folded sheets.

* * *

Later, Felix found Claude alone in the library, leafing through some thick book and frowning.

“Here,” he said, placing the bag on the table in front of Claude unceremoniously. “Sylvain told me to give this back to you.”

Claude looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow. “Now, why would he need to do that when you heard everything that I said?” He grinned at Felix’s scandalized expression. “Trust me, Felix, I have plenty of experience pretending to be asleep when people are talking about me. I noticed.”

Felix scoffed and his expression settled into a glare. Of course they had to get help from _him_.

“No need for that,” Claude said easily, bookmarking his page and setting the book aside. He pulled the bag forward and glanced inside, then nodded, satisfied. “Like I said – always happy to help out friends.”

“Ow!” 

A hiss from behind a shelf made Felix spin around, only to see Lysithea wander out from between shelves with several thin books under her arm. She was cradling her thumb with her other hand, and an impressive amount of blood was seeping from a cut.

Lysithea glanced up when she saw Felix and Claude. “Just a paper cut.”

Claude frowned and stood up, peering over her shoulder. “Looks pretty bad. Do you need a bandage?”

“No way,” Lysithea said immediately, casting a healing spell. Felix just looked at her. That was overkill, wasn’t it? She just looked back at Felix meaningfully. “I’m not going in the infirmary for at _least_ a week.”

Claude snickered and Felix huffed indignantly, feeling his face heat up, before turning sharply and heading towards the exit.

“I appreciate …” Felix chewed the words for a moment before saying them, gritting his teeth as he paused at the door, “your help.”

Behind him, he heard Claude’s snickering turn into full blown laugher and he slammed the door shut.

* * *

Sylvain only noticed Linhardt because he yawned on the other side of a hedge and startled Sylvain.

When he looked, he found Linhardt reading a book on a bench, looking exhausted. “Hey, Linhardt,” Sylvain greeted, offering him a smile as he approached.

Linhardt nodded back to him. “Sylvain.”

“Look,” Sylvain started, embarrassed, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I should have asked you before giving the bracelet to Felix. I hope you didn’t stay up working on it.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Linhardt said blandly, yawning again. “I got excited because I thought there was an unusual reaction between your Crest and Felix’s, but it turns out that he really did just use his Crest too much. Our professor still made me make sure that the aphrodisiac effect wasn’t truly harmful, and that took a while.”

“The – wait, hold on.” Did Sylvain hear that right? He … no way, surely not. “Did you do that _on purpose_?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Linhardt said, which didn’t soothe Sylvain’s worry _at all._ “It was just a side effect that happened to appear when I made the bracelet and I couldn’t be bothered to remove it since I would have to restructure everything else. Besides, you didn’t ask if it had any side effects.” He just looked at Sylvain evenly as Sylvain struggled with his words.

“I – okay, wait, are you telling me that would have happened to _me_ if I wore it?” Sylvain ran a hand through his hair, feeling his face heat up from having this conversation with _Linhardt_, of all people.

“I mean, to some extent,” Linhardt said, nodding like it was perfectly reasonable. “But it _was_ made for your Crest and your Relic, so probably not to the same level of severity. Although I suppose the compatibility may also enhance it … hm, now that’s an idea.”

“Linhardt!” Sylvain nearly yelled, but managed to keep his voice at a semi-speaking level. “You can’t just – what if you hadn’t gotten back as quickly as you did? Either one of us would have –“

Linhardt cut Sylvain off with a casual wave of his hand. “I figured Felix would help you out, or vice versa, as it were. Maybe then you’d stop almost being intimate in public places. Like the training grounds.” 

Sylvain threw his hands up, face aflame. “Are you kidding?! Does _everyone_ know?”

“Well,” Linhardt said, a half-smile on his face, “I don’t think Caspar noticed, if that helps.”

**Author's Note:**

> Linhardt: but did you die
> 
> \- Isn’t Silence a staff, not a rod? Yep. The literal Japanese translation is “silence rod,” and since these aren’t being used to silence a person, I used “rod” instead of “staff” to denote that it’s something slightly different. As far as I know, there’s no magical soundproofing item in the Fire Emblem series so I went with the closest thing I could think of. Also, who can resist adding another innuendo? Not me!
> 
> \- Where did Claude get the Silence rods? From a different Anna hailing from somewhere that uses rods and staves instead of spells. Take your pick tbh.
> 
> \- Where’s Manuela? Not dead but not here. Mission? Staying with a handsome knight? Weeklong bender in Enbarr? Again, take your pick :sunglasses emoji:
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
